


Cookies, Snow and Stories

by Tochter_der_Athene



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28200696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tochter_der_Athene/pseuds/Tochter_der_Athene
Summary: I wrote this fic for @rosemaldrge as part of the Wolfstar Secret Snowflake Exchange 2020 on tumblr.com
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10
Collections: The Wolfstar Secret Snowflake Exchange 2020





	Cookies, Snow and Stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosemaldrge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosemaldrge/gifts).



In the grassy hills of Wales, a cottage was nestled quite remotely in between two hills. There was only a narrow lane curving up to it and no car in sight. If one didn’t know better, one would think witches lived here. But really, let’s not be stereotypical: it wasn’t witches living there, but wizards. And whether or not one had been assigned ‘witch’ at birth was rather irrelevant at this point.

So, a wizards’ cottage. And even though it looked rather tranquil from the outside, controlled chaos had taken over the kitchen.

The fifth annual Black-Lupin Christmas Cookie Baking Extravaganza had an additional third member this year. Having been deemed old enough for it by an overenthusiastic godfather, Harry had been sucked into the shenanigans Remus and Sirius got up to in the holiday season.  
Lily and James had been rather grateful for a day of rest and relaxation without an overactive four-year-old running about.

In preparation, Sirius and Remus had already made several doughs the night before, which were currently chilling in the fridge, waiting for the fun to begin.  
When the trio was finally complete, aprons tied and countertops generously floured, the first step was the rolling out. Harry stood on a little stool so he could reach the counter, armed with an almost comically large rolling pin. Remus standing behind him assisted and taught him how to roll the dough out properly and evenly.   
And then he could go to town with all the different cookie cutters they had either owned before or especially transfigured. Among these was, of course, a stag for Daddy, a lily flower for Mummy, a dog for Uncle Siri and a wolf for Uncle Moony. 

“Careful, Uncle Moony, don’t break Daddy’s horns!” Harry was very concerned as Remus transferred the cut-out forms to the baking tray. 

“They’re called antlers, Pup. And see, Moony is the best at levitating, so nothing is going to happen to dear old Prongs.” Sirius corrected him; a snicker only barely suppressed as not to hurt the little-one’s feelings. Horns! Oh, he was so going to tease James about that later.

After Remus had transferred even the most detailed snowflake to the baking tray and the cookies were safely in the oven, Sirius turned up the radio with a flick of his wand:

“I wish it could be Christmas everyday…!”

The annual Black-Lupin Christmas Cookie Baking Extravaganza was never completely with a healthy dose of horrible dancing around the kitchen, which usually ended with a snogging session. This year, prying toddler eyes cut that a bit short, but they could always keep going after Harry had gone home. That would also reduce the risk of burnt cookies, so, win-win, really, thought Sirius.  
Once the cookies had cooled, Sirius and Harry took charge of decorating: sugar-coating in different colours, chocolate and sprinkles were used generously even where they weren’t supposed to be going. But oh well, that’s what magic is for, right?  
In conclusion, it was a very happy and sleepy Harry that came home at the end of the day, with an entire box full of Christmas cookies in tow.

-

The next morning starts early for Remus, a blanket around his shoulders and warm tea between his hands. He’s standing on their porch, enjoying the early morning light.  
Picture this: a sunrise over other times grassy hills. A cosy blanket of snow singing the world to sleep. Tranquil silence, only broken by Remus’ breaths, steam disappearing into the cold morning air as he sips his first cuppa.

But he knows the peace will not last. These minutes are only the calm before the storm. A storm called Padfoot.

Remus does wonder sometimes, how much of Sirius’ enthusiasm for playing in the snow (or mud for that matter) comes from his Animagus form and how much has always been there. A playfulness smothered for the first few years of his life.

He’ll wake up soon and then there won’t be anything holding him back. In fact, there is a thunderous sound coming closer, more like a battalion of marching soldiers than one (admittedly rather large) dog.

Sirius almost bowls him over on his way into the untouched expanse of white, pure snow. And there he goes, a nosedive right into the first snowdrift in sight. Remus has to chuckle fondly at the sight. That reaction to the first snow never gets old. From their first year at Hogwarts up until now, his enthusiasm was undiminished.

They’ve both been looking forward to it snowing, ever since the weather cast announced the coming snowfall on the radio. Remus and Sirius have been anticipating it for different reasons though: Sirius for the quite expansive playing opportunities as a dog as well as a godfather. It’s Harry’s first snow, so they’ll pop over to the Potters in a little while to introduce him to this strange new winter wonderland.

Remus, however, likes the way the snow makes everything feel calm, the way even his ever-churning mind quiets at the sight of the world around their little cottage hidden by a white veil. That it makes the world look a little brighter at the darkest time of the year is also a bonus.

Padfoot in the meantime managed to dig his way back out of the snow drift and was frolicking all over the garden. Suddenly, he turns back into a human, only to yell: “Moony you plonker, what are you waiting for, come join me!” and turning right back into Padfoot. With a fond chuckle, Remus turns to go put on boots and a coat, after all, the first snow of the season is serious business.

-

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…” a voice was chirping from the turned down radio on the sideboard while Remus was sitting at his desk, pensively looking out the window.

He couldn’t believe that another year had passed already. In the spring it would be five years since he and Sirius had gotten married and moved into their little cottage. He loved this room next to the kitchen, with his desk and typewriter and the view over the wide hills and forest. His office. Remus had never expected to become an author. He always thought of the stories he told his friends in the dorms as insignificant, a little fun, but nothing all that important in the long run.

Sirius had been the one to encourage him to write them down and submit his work to a publisher. Unexpectedly, his collection of short stories ad been published and been a hit with young and old. The demand for more had finally inspired Remus to try his hand at a novel and currently, he was working on his first series.

Remus was glad that he could make his own schedule, without having to explain himself to anyone when he couldn’t get out of bed after a full moon or worked late into insomnia ridden nights.  
He had no idea how his life had ended up here: a person he loved and who loved him in return, a stable income and a warm and welcoming roof over his head with friends who knew his secret and stayed with him instead of deserting him.

Warm arms wrapped around him from behind and a kiss landed on his cheek. “Where have you gone off to? It looked like you were a million miles away.”   
Remus had neither heard Sirius come in, nor noticed the fresh cup of tea standing on his desk.

He leaned back into Sirius and gave his own kiss in return. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am, and how happy you’ve made me.” 

“I love you, Moony.” “I love you, too.”

“How far have you come with your book this morning, Love? Are there talking dragons yet?” Sirius asked jokingly while sticking his cold nose into a squirming Remus’ neck.

“I told you that in confidence, not as something for you to tease me about.” But Remus was smiling, so he knew he didn’t mean it.

And really, it was an old tease: it had been in third year, after they learned about dragons in Care of Magical Creatures, that Moony had asked him whether it wouldn’t be really cool if dragons could talk?  
With that light shining in his eyes and a rare smile on his face Sirius had hopelessly fallen for him in that moment exactly. When Remus told his stories, the ones that were magical and fantastical even for the wizarding world, his eyes would still light up that same way. That was the reason Sirius had encouraged him to write everything down and, eventually, publish them.

Because everyone deserved that kind of spark in their life, the one that made them dream of a world filled with hope and happiness. Remus had been that spark for him. The hope he had dreamt of in the nights at dim, dark Grimauld Place forced into a role he didn’t want to play.

Never had he expected everything to actually work out. But here he was, in a cosy cottage with his husband, who told stories with stars in his eyes and makes him believe in magic.

Yes, Sirius could see how one had to stop and reflect if one’s heart was so full, it might burst out if his chest any minute.

Together, they watched the sun set, wrapped cosily into each other’s arms.


End file.
